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| - There's a lot to love about Zada Jane's. The sweetness-and-light decor, the localish menu, the fact they generally have someone who knows something about coffee manning the cappuccino machine.
The jelly comes in a squeeze bottle from 'Imladris Farms'. Elves make their jelly, it's true.
The food always sounds fantastic on the menu, letting you know which co-op produced which animal you're about to devour-and it's impossible to deny that the local-food and slow-food snobs .. er .. aficionados eat that stuff up. Especially, in this case, the slow-food folks. They should have nothing at all to complain about, because this chow creeps along as if they're out killing the pig by the dumpster.
Let's talk about hipsters for a minute, shall we?
There are hipsters for every category; most of us are familiar with the 'scene hipster', overly conscious about trends, which bars are the dive-y-ist, they like bands you've never heard of. These are not the only stripe of hipster.
Enter the 'foodie hipster'. They know all these great local places you've never heard of, they refuse to eat at chain restaurants because they want to support the local community, they want gluten-free organic farm-raised low-fat cuisine with a vegetarian option. They watch Iron Chef and feel bad that they like foi gras, but it's just so delicious.
Zada Janes is the foodie hipster scene in exactly the same way that any given late-night diner belongs to the scenester. It hits all their buttons; they don't care how long they have to wait or how terrible the service is or how inconsistent the food quality is, because it's local and neighborly and they get to know the name of the pig.
If you find yourself watching 'Chopped' or reading about 'sustainable farming' despite never setting foot on freshly tilled soil, you will absolutely ADORE Zada Jane's.
For the rest of us, here's the actual review:
The food is usually good, but can be inconsistent. The service is universally terrible, and the service staff will give you the impression that they're on the morning shift because they're still awake, still drunk, and plan on sleeping it off after 5pm.
Your order is like as not to be wrong, and while you're waiting for the correction (or even a drink refill) you can write the Great American Novel. It's a hip brunch spot, so either get in before 10am, or be prepared to fight a horde of noisy children for the shuffleboard and cornhole out front.
If you plan on getting coffee while you wait the gentle eternity it will take to get you seated, bring a mug. The line is often 30 people, and there are maybe a dozen mugs to go around.
The seating is cramped, many of the tables are tiny, and you are like to be jostled.
Any suggestion on the done-ness of your eggs might as well be a prayer to Odin.
All that said: if you can get there at an off-peak time, don't mind paying a premium price for knowing where your grits were grown, and are fine with hanging around for a couple of hours, there's a good chance you'll have an acceptable dining experience.
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